The High Road
by soccer-shortii
Summary: After failing the ninth grade and breaking up with Chris Abley, Fawn Armstong feels like she's got nothing going for her. But when alpha Skye Hamilton leaves for an exclusive boarding school, Fawn's life changes in a way she could never imagine.
1. Too Little Too Late

**So I know I really should be working on Five Minutes of Fame, but this idea came after reading _Kristen _and is stuck in my head.  
Disclaimer: If I owned the Clique, I'd have a lot more money.

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_It's just too little too late…_

"Fawn Elizabeth Armstrong." The bleached blonde, spray tanned woman glared hotly at her fifteen year old daughter. Steam shot out of her over accessorized earlobes, and Fawn half expected the sheet of paper in her mother's manicured hands to burst into flames. She wished it would; that paper held all the evidence Mrs. Armstrong needed to ground Fawn until she was forty. Columns of letters, all written in blood red ink, spelled out her crime: two D's, four F's, and one lonely A in gym. It was a weight in Fawn's hands as she surrendered it to her mom, and in her mother's it was a lethal weapon. In her teacher's possession, it was a simple six week progress report, but to the Armstrongs, it was anything but simple.

"You do realize you have less than three weeks to get your grades up?" Fawn's mother finally spat out, her knuckles white from clutching the paper in a death grip. "That if you don't get at least a 65 in all your classes, you'll fail the ninth grade?" Fawn lowered her emerald eyes to the kitchen floor, staring at the ivory tiles as if each one was a miniature television. A strand of sun-kissed blonde hair was wound tightly around her finger, and her thick brown lashes were wet. Mrs. Armstrong paced the room, muttering under her breath, oblivious to her daughter's distress.

"It's that boy's fault. She spends too much time with him, and not enough on homework. He's a bad influence on her; he was held back. And his driving!" She clicked her tongue and shook her head in disgust. Her snakeskin heels slapped the floor with every angry step she took, stomping the ground to beat of Fawn's heart.

"No, Mom! Chris didn't do anything. It's my fault for not paying attention. I'll work harder, I promise!"

"My decision is made. You are forbidden to see Chris until your report card comes out in three weeks." Her eyes, identical to her daughter's, narrowed. "And if I find out you're with him behind my back, you can bet I'll file a restraining order against him." She spun on her heel and strode out of the kitchen, Fawn's progress report laying unharmed on the marble countertop.

"You should've caught on fire," Fawn mumbled, hating the sheet of paper.

-x-

"I'm sorry, Chris, but I can't go out with anyone who loves their horse more than me," Fawn never thought she'd be lying through her teeth to her boyfriend of more than two years. Chris Abley, Leonardo DiCaprio look-alike and Briarwood's favorite bad boy, stood across from her in the cramped stable, his ocean blue eyes tearing up. She casually slipped on her oversized Calvin Klein sunglasses, not to shield herself from the sun but to shield her own watering eyes from him. She slowly moved her hands up to her neck, unclasping the silver locket Chris had given her last Christmas.

"That's not true!" Chris answered, pleading with Fawn just as she had with her mother the day before. "I admit, I love Tricky, but I love you just as much. Please believe me." Fawn choked back tears as she dropped the necklace into his hands.

"Too little too late, Chris." She coolly quoted her favorite song and sped out of the barn, hay flying after her. Chris could never know the real reason why she broke up with him; telling him that her mother made her, that she was failing the ninth grade, and that it was "all his fault" would make her feel dumber than she already was.

Her life was officially over.

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**Review please. :)**


	2. Not That Kinda Girl

_I don't think it's fair- you don't like the clothes I wear, how I do my hair..._

Four boxes of tissues, two pints of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food, and one week later, Fawn decided she needed to make some positive changes. For one, all this ice cream was going directly to her thighs, and two, studying was _not _her thing. Over the past week, she missed out on too many end-of-the-year parties to count due to post-breakup depression and her mother's insane homework schedule. Instead of hitting the books, she should be hitting the fashion magazines for this summer's style must haves- something, to her mom's dismay, she was going to start immediately.

"Fawn! What do you think you're doing?" Mrs. Armstrong demanded angrily, side-stepping the numerous high heels that littered the wall-to-wall carpeting of her daughter's room. Colorful tank tops, denim shorts in various washes, wide leather belts, designer purses, and chunky jewelry was strewn carelessly across Fawn's queen sized mattress, the teal bedding barely visible from under the jumble of clothing and accessories. Unopened text books were stacked on top of a wrinkled baby doll, acting as a makeshift iron, and her backpack was long gone. The latest Jonas Brothers single blasted from the stereo system, Fawn singing along into her blush brush and experimenting with purple eyeliner at her vanity, knowing fully well that the eyeliner itself was enough to raise her mother's blood pressure.

"Getting ready for school tomorrow," she answered nonchalantly, examining her reflection. Smoothing her terry cloth Juicy Couture mini and patting her honey-colored tresses, Fawn bounded over to her closet. "Should I wear jeans, a skirt, or a dress tomorrow? A dress over jeans? Or even a skirt over jeans?"

"Fawn, sweetie, don't you think you should be studying for algebra right now?" Mrs. Armstrong questioned, in the sweetest voice she could muster, considering the current situation: her only daughter, who was failing four classes, chose, not to study, but to play dress up the eve of her math exam. Her mother's voice drowned out by a deafening guitar riff, Fawn continued to rip articles of clothing off their hangers and onto the bed. "Fawn?"

"Hmm?" Mrs. Armstrong stomped over to the jumbo speakers, shutting off the music. Fawn poked her head out of her closet, her head tilted to one side in confusion like a cartoon character.

"Fawn Armstrong, you know perfectly well you should be sitting at that desk studying right now." She glowered at her daughter, reminiscent of the look she gave Fawn, just a week ago, after seeing her dreadful progress report.

"And Mom, you know perfectly well that no matter what I do, I won't pass ninth grade! I can't get higher grades in less than two weeks, and the guidelines for summer school would only let me retake one class anyways!" Fawn spun around to face her mom, her chest heaving and her hair wild. "You took away my boyfriend, but you can't take away my life."

Throwing up her hands in defeat, Mrs. Armstrong trudged out of the cluttered room. "I swear, teenaged girls are crazy."

-x-

"Girls, I bet you're wondering why I so _urgently_ gathered you here today." Skye Hamilton presumed in her low, raspy voice, her icy blue eyes narrowed. The cluster of blondes nodded their heads vigorously, eagerly awaiting an explanation. The five girls, known as the DSL Daters because of their speedy connections with guys, had two claims for fame: the tangles of bracelets they wore and their varying shades of blonde hair, from platinum to sun-kissed gold, to dandelion yellow to almost brown. The infamous group had ruled the eighth grade and was more than ready to dominate the ninth. In Octavian County Day's dimly lit bomb shelter, none of the girls noticed the absence of jewelry on Skye's wrists, signifying their alpha had a change of plans.

"I've been accepted into an elite boarding school called Alphas Academy," Skye paused, taking a deep breath. "And I'm officially leaving the DSL Daters." Her announcement was followed by four girls gasping in shock.

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**In my mind, Fawn's mother is a Mrs. Gregory-type character.  
Keep the reviews coming. :)**


	3. Coming for You

**A/N: Since the DSL Daters have never had names, I had to come up with them myself. Holly has "Swiss Miss" braids, and is also the "DSLDater1" Skye texts in _Kristen_. Danielle and Kate are the two girls with ultra high ponytails, and Chrissy is the DSL Dater with her hair down in waves.**

_You're the one that I chose, you know I'm coming for you..._

"Ugh, too brunette."

"Too ugly!"

"Too… I don't even know what's wrong with THIS girl. What is up with that perm?" Each DSL Dater proceeded to flip through her year book until she found the page Danielle Baker was pointing at, and all four girls giggled simultaneously at the eighth grader's unfortunate hair style. Sprawled on the lush carpeting of Holly Smith's bedroom, surrounded by low fat butter popcorn and cans of Coke Zero, the DSL Daters (minus Skye, who had ditched them for "fellow dancers") were on a mission: find an upcoming, ninth grade blonde to replace their AWOL alpha. So far, they had come up with more requirements than matches.

"Look how manly this chick is!" Chrissy Kain scoffed, while Kate Fields peered over her tan shoulder.

"Um, Chris? That's a BOY." Kate smirked, watching the blood rush to Chrissy's cheeks. Reaching into the nearest bowl of popcorn, Chrissy threw kernels at Kate, who promptly threw up her hands in surrender.

"Uncle! Uncle! You're going to get grease on my new top," she added, striking a pose to show off her Juicy Couture empire waist jumper, thrown over dark-wash skinny jeans and pointy bright red flats.

"Totally adorable!" Holly commented, pushing her side bangs out of her expertly made-up face as she checked out her friend. "Can I borrow it for when I go to the movies tomorrow with Harris Fisher, Katie-cat?"

"Very subtle. Now none of us know you have a hot date with a senior," Danielle rolled her hazel eyes, and Holly grinned sheepishly, twirling a long braid around her finger.

"Way to rub it in!" Kate yelled from her spot in the bathroom, where she was checking her jumper for stains and reapplying makeup.

"Oh my gosh! Did he ask you out? Or was it the other way around? What movie are you seeing?" With the rapid fast speed of a TV news reporter, Chrissy bombarded Holly with questions, and Danielle stuck her tongue out at her.

"That's what you get for bragging," she chided, speaking in a sing-song voice that belonged on the likes of Barney and Blue's Clues. A flurry of popcorn kernels suddenly impaired her vision, and when she opened her eyes, Holly was smiling smugly.

"What is up with the throwing popcorn today?" Danielle wondered aloud. Chrissy high-fived Holly, and the two partners in crime giggled as they corrected Danielle's mistake.

"Silly Dani. We don't throw popcorn…" Holly started, glancing at Chris, signaling her to continue.

"We throw kernels!" Danielle sighed. "Popcorn is softer anyways, it's not like it'd actually hurt. And it'd be, like, a total waste of food!" Chrissy, always the chatterbox, jabbered on about popcorn vs. popcorn kernels until Kate finally stuck her hand over her mouth.

"Thank God! Kate, I love you," Danielle wrapped her arms around Kate in a big hug, while Holly snorted in a very unladylike manner at the scene.

"In five minutes she'll be asking Kate to marry her." Chrissy giggled and nodded as Danielle, overhearing Holly, kneeled down on one knee, holding onto Kate's hands.

"I didn't mean literally!" Holly struggled to pull Danielle off of Kate, Chrissy laughing too hard to be helpful.

"Anyways," Kate reminded the group, free of Danielle's clutches, "we have a job to do." The girls groaned, plopping down on top of their pillows and flipping open their Octavian County Day yearbooks again. The room was quiet, except for the occasional rustle of pages and the girls' many bracelets clinking together.

"Hey! This girl's pretty… and she's BLONDE!" The DSL Daters jumped up to look at Chrissy's yearbook, shoving each other out of the way to get a better look at the girl.

"Chris, that's Fawn Armstrong." Turning over the navy yearbook, Danielle added, "And this is last year's edition!"

"She's perfect!" Kate mused. "Too bad she's going into tenth." Fawn's flawless face smiled up at the girls from the outdated OCD yearbook.

"Wait!" Holly interjected, jumping up. "No she's not!" The resident "gossip girl" motioned for her friends to come closer.

"She totally failed the ninth grade after she broke up with Chris Abley," she whispered, grinning at the girls' gasps of shock and nodding at their denials.

"Source?" Danielle demanded, staring into Holly's sapphire eyes with her hazel.

"Okay, well you know the hair salon my mother goes to?" The DSL Daters nodded swiftly, urging Holly to continue. "Apparently Fawn's mom goes to the same one and they were gossiping about it yesterday. Fawn, like, refuses to take summer school because she thinks it's a waste of time and she's failing too many classes or something. And her mom made her break up with Chris because she thought he was the reason why she was doing bad!"

"Wow…" Chrissy muttered, surprised. "That's like a soap opera!"

"Who cares?" Kate's smile grew wider, evolving into a grin that would make Demi Lovato or the Cheshire Cat jealous. "As long as she's in our grade, she can be the newest addition to the DSL Daters."

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**Review please. :)**


	4. This Time

_Caught in a maze, I can't find my way back_

"Shhh!" Danielle reprimanded, holding an index finger to her lips. The DSL Daters quickly hushed up, rolling their eyes and pressing their own fingers to their lips. Chrissy laughed loudly and elbowed Holly in the rib cage.

"I feel like we're in kindergarten again," she whispered.

"Hips and lips!" Holly sang, rubbing her ribs. "Why'd you have to elbow me so hard, anyways?" she complained, smacking Chrissy on the back.

"And Danielle is the teacher who'll make us stand in the corner if we misbehave," Kate added, overhearing.

"Guys! Shut up and focus!" Danielle ordered, causing the other three to collapse into giggles.

"Yes Miss Danielle," they replied, smirking.

"In case you three stooges don't remember," Danielle snarled, "we are TRYING to do something here. If we don't talk to Fawn today, it'll only take a moment for some losers to befriend her, instantly upping their status. And," she added, smiling, "if you're nice I'll let you stay on green light."

"Whatever. When I was in kindergarten my teacher had to bribe me with candy to be good," Holly answered. "We practically had a party on the occasion when I stayed on green all day long."

"Ooh, you're such a rebel," Chrissy fluttered her eyelashes and puckered her lips. "I like that in a boy."

"Um, when did I become a boy?"

"When you wore that hat," Kate teased, pulling the black baseball cap off of Holly's head, throwing it into the bushes. The girls had ditched their noisy bracelets and bright, conspicuous clothing for all-black garb and smoky makeup, despite the fact that it was still broad daylight outside.

"I feel like such a spy," Chrissy commented, prompting Kate to start humming the _Mission Impossible_ theme as Danielle and Holly tumbled in the dew coated grass, secret agent style.

"Good thing we're wearing black, or else we'd totally get grass stains," Danielle laughed, helping Holly off the ground.

"By the way, which house is Fawn's?" Kate asked, staring at the identical brick homes looming in front of them. Each one was considered 'standard' in Westchester-equipped with a large wrap-around porch, at least two floors, and a swimming pool and/or hot tub in the backyard.

"Umm… the biggest one?" Chrissy guessed stupidly, touching up on mascara in a compact, having yet to look up at the houses. Holly fished through her enormous black leather Coach tote, muttering to herself the whole time. She pulled out a lipstick stained post-it note, grinning victoriously.

"Here it is! Fawn Armstrong's street number is 154 Roseglenn Drive."

Danielle wrinkled her perfect ski-slope nose. "Roseglenn? It sounds like the name of a retirement home." She tightened her blonde ponytail, giggling. "Although, who knows how many times Fawn failed? She could actually be a senior citizen."

"Be nice," Kate warned, crossing her arms over her chest, "we need her." Danielle rolled her eyes and Chrissy followed suit.

"I thought it was Danielle's turn to be the uptight one today?" she asked sweetly, causing Holly to chuckle loudly and give her friend a high five.

"Touché, Chris," Danielle admitted, grinning mischievously. "But tomorrow it's YOUR turn to have bruises!" She tackled Chrissy to the ground, and Holly sighed.

"Not meaning to steal your throne, O Uptight One," Holly started, "but don't you think we should try to find Fawn's house while it's still daylight?"

--

"Um, hey Fawn, it's Chris. Can you call me? I miss yo-" Fawn clicked the 'seven' digit on her cell, deleting yet another of Chris Abeley's agonizing messages. The blonde flopped onto her bed, having no concern for the Calvin Klein Home Collection comforter she was wrinkling in the process. Slurping her can of diet root beer, she pressed her phone to her ear for the next voicemail.

"Fawn, it's Chr-" Deleted.

"Hey, Chris here…" Done.

"Hello. It's Chris-" Finito.

Fawn groaned, tossing her LG Chocolate across the room, where it hit her lime green walls with a resounding thump. JoJo's "This Time" started playing immediately, signaling the umpteenth call from Chris.

_This time it's all my fault  
__This time I did it  
__Really, but I got these feelings  
How am I supposed to know?  
Can't let my weakness show  
Havin my fits may cause me to miss this first chance at real love_

"Can't he just leave me alone?" Fawn huffed, tossing a pillow at her cell to silence it.

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Armstrong peeked out from behind the Jonas Brothers poster-plastered bedroom door, her eyebrows furrowed and manicured hands in front of her face to protect her from any other objects her daughter might throw.

Fawn grinned sheepishly. "Oh, nothing."

"Oh, well, you have a visitor," Mrs. Armstrong replied, while Fawn raised an eyebrow, wondering if that visitor was a certain blonde haired, blue eyed Briarwood boy. Her mother quickly corrected herself. "I mean, visitors."

"Who?"

"See for yourself."


	5. Keep On Keepin' On

_You gotta keep on keepin' on, you gotta keep your head up high_

"Hear that, girls?" Massie Block dipped her pedicured toes into the Block's kidney-shaped pool, while the self-named "Pretty Committee" each raised a waxed eyebrow, hearing nothing but the sound of their alpha speaking. Twirling a purple streak casually around one finger, she answered their silent question- _What is she talking about?_

"It's the sound of us finally becoming the true alphas of OCD." The four girls furrowed their brows, the flaxen-haired Claire Lyons even going so far as to cock her head to the side, very much like a confused puppy dog. Kristen Gregory, the most grade-conscious of the group, nudged Dylan Marvil, the most weight-conscious, in the ribs, fighting back a laugh at Claire's response.

"Dumb blonde," burped Dylan, resulting in a full-on cackle from Kristen. Despite her Shrek-like demeanor, Dylan was included in Westchester's inner circle because of her famous mother and highly envied wardrobe, a fact which both mystified and annoyed Octavian Country Day's "Massie-chists." Sitting next to her, Alicia Rivera braided her raven waves, seemingly disinterested in her friends' conversation. She _was _the gossip queen, however, and her diamond-studded ears were always wide open.

"Dylan, if I was a dumb blonde, my name would be Olivia Ryan," Claire snapped, blowing a bubble with a pink piece of Elixir-flavored Five gum. Massie giggled while Alicia rolled her eyes, still sore about any mention of Olivia because she ditched Leesh for the Briarwood boys' soccer team. The flirtatious blonde was also a sore topic for her maid, Joyce, after walking in on Alicia thrusting darts at a picture of Olivia's plastic-makes-perfect face.

"Anyways," Kristen broke in, "Mass, what were you talking about us being the true alphas?" She lowered last year's Coach sunglasses, a gift from Alicia after Kristen came to school wearing knockoff LVs.

"Well, Skye Hamilton is leaving her blonde minions for something better," Massie smirked, implying that if she was best friends with the soon-to-be ninth grader, Skye would never dare to abandon her. Flipping through the pages of her magazine, she continued. "She's breaking up the DSL Daters and is going to a boarding school. Therefore, we are the most popular clique at OCD."

"Rewind!" Alicia shouted, trying out a new phrase; 'given' and 'point' were _so _seventh grade. "The DSL Daters are NAWT broken up. I heard they were adding Fawn Armstrong to their ranks." She undid her side braid, letting her Rapunzel-length tresses loose.

"Fawn Armstrong? Chris Abeley's Fawn?" Massie's amber eyes widened incredulously, then quickly narrowed. "Source?"

"You know I never reveal my sources," Alicia winked.

"Fawn is about to be a sophomore. There's no way she'd hang out with freshies," Dylan pointed out. "Even though, after breaking up with Chris, she may need all the friends she can get." Claire sipped her virgin Pina Colada, nodding in agreement.

"Actually, I heard Fawn failed ninth," Kristen smirked proudly- Alicia wasn't the only one who could supply juicy gossip. Volunteering as an OCD office aide wasn't just for extra credit, it was for information.

Alicia nodded in confirmation. "So, the DSL Daters are befriending her and are possibly making her the new alpha. Gawd knows they can't survive without one." Dylan high-fived the so-called Spanish beauty at her indirect burn.

"This can nawt be happening!" Massie huffed, taking her frustration out on her Seventeen by tossing it into the over-chlorinated pool. As the latest fashions and hair styles blurred into a soggy mess, Massie sympathized with the magazine: totally washed out.

"I know where you can buy a DSL Daters dart board," Alicia piped up, trying to soothe the enraged alpha.

"And I have Fawn's number in my cell- maybe we can buy her off?" Kristen snorted at Dylan's offer. With an allowance of over a thousand dollars a month, Dylan believed anything was possible with money.

"It's okay," Massie responded, unwrapping the halter style cover-up Dylan brought back from Hawaii, revealing a lavender bikini. "We're gonna lie in the weeds for now, just like snakes."

Kristen grinned mischievously. "Or maybe we can lie in the pool, just like Massie!" Dylan jumped up to help as the pushed the brunette into the water, who immediately pulled the pair in. Alicia followed suit, leaping in with her white t-shirt still concealing her C-cups.

Claire giggled, tucking the paper umbrella from her drink behind one ear. "Smell that, girls?" she muttered under her breath. "It's the unmistakable scent of drama."

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**you just can't have a clique story without the pretty committee. ;) review, please & thank you.**


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